


Room for One More? (Always)

by catapparel



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catapparel/pseuds/catapparel
Summary: Emma comes home to her family after a long, hard day.





	Room for One More? (Always)

Emma closed the door to 108 Mifflin behind her with a soft click. An immediate warmth passed over her shoulders like she had slipped into a hot bath run just for her. The lights in Mifflin were low, and the house was still and quiet, but she knew her family lay somewhere inside, thanks to the sky-high heels and boyish sneakers neatly tucked away next to the spot reserved for her muddy footwear. She sighed as she kicked off her boots, flecks of slush and snow starting to melt off the rubber soles. She quickly shucked her jacket and beanie, jamming them onto her hook next to Regina’s fur-lined peacoat and Henry’s nearly too small windbreaker. Emma poked her head around the corner. A faint light from the living room seeped under the far door, and Emma honed in on it like a beacon.

She wiggled her toes in her woollen socks as she padded along wooden floors, still somewhat marvelling they had remained dry after the gruelling day in the wintry outdoors she had had. A gift from Regina last Christmas. She didn’t know if they were enchanted or what, but her feet were thanking her, unlike many a winter in the past where she had cursed ragged cotton socks and boots falling apart at the seams that gave her nightmarish blisters. Back then, they were all between her and the streets she had to call home. Blizzards in a small town were hellish, especially when nearly the whole town treated snow-chains as if they had been created by the devil himself, but today, her feet were dry, and she was coming home to her family.

Her _family_ , she marvelled. Here they were. The first one she had spotted was Henry, and his tween-aged gangly limbs sprawled along the muted leather of Regina’s ridiculously expensive sofa. He wasn’t alone. Emma’s eyes softened as she took in mother and son. Regina was in fact the one sharing the sofa, all faded lipstick and tiredness, still dressed in her Mayoral outfit of the day. Her head lay back against the armrest, eyes closed, face soft with that look of quiet content she had whenever her boy was close. Henry’s face was smushed against her stomach, body draped over her legs, and he looked utterly relaxed as Regina smoothed long, gentle fingers through his brown locks.

“Henry,” Emma whispered, nudging her lanky son with her knuckle. He let out a low grumble of protest, rolling his shoulder away from her jabbing touch and smushing his face further into his mother’s stomach.

Emma spared a glance to Regina’s face, but her eyes were still closed, and her face blissfully blank.

“Henry. Move over kid,” Emma nudged him again, harder this time. “Make some room for the breadwinner.”

Henry let out a whine but did as he was told, rolling over onto his side and curling against the leather sofa.

Emma proceeded to unceremoniously drape herself over the couch and Regina, lowering her head onto Henry’s spot on the brunette’s stomach. Her body was warm, soft, still lingering faintly of that perfume Emma had bought her the other month. Emma breathed in deep, exhaling a long sigh of content. A lazy grin pulled at her cheeks as she settled in and closed her eyes.

She waited. And she waited some more. Emma cracked her eyes open, glancing at her son laying just opposite. Regina’s fingers still ran leisurely through his hair, and Henry himself looked to have simply melted into unconsciousness from her touch.

The whine escaped her throat before she even realised it was happening. She reached out blindly, seeking Regina’s free hand. Tugging it above her own head, Emma let it drop onto on her hair, giving Regina’s hand a quick pat, in case she hadn’t got the hint. Her grin returned as she heard Regina’s fond sigh, and she snuggled closer as deft, loving fingertips began to wind through her hair and trail along her scalp.

The minutes passed freely, slowly. Emma’s eyelids started to droop from sleepiness, lulled by the steady touch of Regina and the rhythmic breathing of her now definitely sleeping son. Just as her vision dimmed in the corners, she heard a faint, familiar whisper from above her.

“Welcome home, Emma.”

Emma reached for Regina’s hand again, and this time brought it to her lips. She pressed them against the back of Regina’s palm, tender, lingering, letting her fingers brush along knuckles, all bare but for one.

“Home.”


End file.
